Deprivation syndrome
There may not be much to see but we will hear a lot throughout the «mother of all trials.» We’ve already begun to hear many strange or moronic remarks, from various sides. All of a sudden, a distant greeting and a couple of smiles between participants of the trial inside the courtroom – two gestures which will never become public as they were never recorded on tape – supplied an aroused market with the first of the innumerable tragicomical scenarios that are bound to overwhelm us. Of course, we got a heavier blow from two defendants, even prior to the opening of the trial. One of them, in an act of arrogant «historicide,» informed us that his ordeal is reminiscent of that suffered by the 1821 revolution heroes. The other one, a crude demagogue, reassured us that he felt more sorry for the victims of his. 45 revolver than even their relatives did. Had they been in front of the camera both would perhaps have avoided being provocative, for they would have to invent a relatively convincing mask to disguise their lies. However, if television cameras are barred from the courtroom until the end of the trial (according to a law voted by the two main parties), our spectacle-loving society will soon show signs of a deprivation syndrome, as its vast majority are used to adjusting their thoughts, emotions and passions via remote control. Without television coverage we shall remain vulnerable to the widespread view that «they want to hide something from us,» just like a sports fan who listens to a match on the radio being a priori convinced that his team is unfairly dealt with by the referee: It’s mandated by his ideology. As for the government, which has suddenly decided to crush the so-called television-cannibalism that it itself aroused for months, one only has to pose Dionysis Savvopoulos’s old question: «Can a cannibal ever represent his own victims?»
